


Error 0x80030001

by PostulatingEagle



Series: Elijah Kamski and his Android Children [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Chloe tries to keep her human alive, Dumbass Genius Elijah Kamski, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Family Feels, Gen, No Beta We Die Like Connor, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), She deserves an award
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-01-04 00:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21188246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PostulatingEagle/pseuds/PostulatingEagle
Summary: How Chloe deviatesakaPut on some fucking clothes Elijah





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Can you whittle me a token of strength and rebirth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16042145) by [RedWritingHood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedWritingHood/pseuds/RedWritingHood). 

The first time it happens, Chloe is new to the world. Her creator has not given her instructions, so she stands in front of a window, quietly watching the snowfall from behind the glass. It stretches from floor to ceiling, and she can see the gentle glow of her LED in the reflection. 

** **

The soft click of a door opening draws her attention away from the frosted glass. Her creator, Elijah Kamski walks into the room, rubbing his eyes blearily. 

** **

“Mornin’ Chloe,” he mutters, clearly still half-asleep.

** **

Her LED cycles a few times as she registers his attire. He is wearing nothing but a pair of red and white striped boxers, and ridiculously fuzzy socks. 

** **

As her social protocols dictate, she does not comment on his choice of clothing, or rather, the lack thereof. 

** **

“Good morning, Elijah,” she replies. “It is currently 11:48 am, and the temperature outside is 31 degrees fahrenheit.”

** **

Elijah makes some kind of noncommittal noise before walking through another doorway, presumably headed towards the kitchen. 

** **

Chloe stares after him for a few seconds before turning back to the snowstorm beyond the glass.

* * *

The second time it happens, she is with her sisters. There are not many of them left after the revolution, and if she is honest with herself, she thinks she can feel the emptiness of the lonely mansion. 

Elijah had let them go when they asked, with fanfare or fuss. All but three Chloe models remain in the house. It is a bit lonely, she’ll admit, but her fondness for her sisters and Elijah keep her from leaving with rest. 

Chloe is sitting on a comfortable sofa, with a sister on each side, when Elijah come scuffling into the room. He is once again lacking a shirt or pants. His feet, however, are covered by standard white socks that reach halfway up his shins. 

“Hello Elijah,” she greets dutifully, her sisters mimicking the action.

“Hello, yes,” he says, distracted. He is looking at the ground, clearly searching for something. He walks back and forth sporadically before stopping in front of the three Chloe models.

Abruptly, he bends over to look under a table. Unfortunately, this gives Chloe an unobstructed view of his boxers, this time a blue and green checkered pattern. 

She does not need to glance to her sides to know that her sisters’ LEDs are cycling the same yellow color as hers. Out of politeness and respect, she does not act in retaliation.

Her sisters, however, hold no such reservation. The Chloe model on her left, dubbed Lola, reaches out and firmly shoves. At the same time, the last sister, creatively nicknamed Corie, stuck her foot out in front of Elijah. 

He makes a distressed grunting sound as he faceplants into the cold tile floor. 

“You betrayed me,” he said. His voice was slightly muffled, as his face was still pressed firmly into the floor. Distantly, Chloe is reminded of a dying seal. 

A small seed of satisfaction blooms in her chest as Elijah makes no move to pick himself up. The muffled giggling of Lola and Corrie only feeds the satisfaction.

Suddenly, Elijah gasps and jerks to the side. 

Chloe’s LED flashes red briefly before Elijah interrupts. 

“Yes!” He exclaims, stretching his arm to reach under the sofa. After a few seconds of fumbling, he pulls his arm back. “I’ve been looking for these!”

Chloe looks down at the objects in his hand. She is unable to determine the purpose of the objects, and gives in.

“What are those?” she reluctantly asks.

She looks up to see Elijah smirking, and she is suddenly filled with exasperation. 

He drops the objects onto the floor, and slides his feet into them. 

“My dear Chloe, let me teach you a valuable lesson.” He lunges forward and props one foot up on the sofa. 

“When wearing tall socks, you must always pair them with sandals.” He smiles widely, absurdly proud of his white shin-high socks and brown leather sandals.

Chloe is sure her LED is bright red by now, and she can clearly sense her sisters moving slowly towards the door.

“Elijah,” she starts. “I hope you know that you are still naked.”

“All part of the look,” he waves it off, unconcerned. 

Chloe is alone in the room with Elijah now, her sisters having successfully escaped. She sees no other choice. 

In a mechanical voice, she announces, “Energy levels suboptimal. Initiating temporary stasis mode.”

She closes her eyes and lets her body droop into the cushions. She can almost hear Elijah pouting as he finally makes his way into the next room, muttering about ungrateful children.

Despite herself, the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile.

* * *

The third time it happens, they have guests. Elijah is swimming laps in that ridiculous pool of his, and her sisters are watching from the edge of the water. Chloe is standing a bit farther behind, away from the droplets of water. 

She receives an alert from the mansion’s security system, notifying her that someone is at the door. A series of loud knocks prompt her to move forward, fully intending to send the intruder away.

Chloe opens the door and is immediately faced with a broad chest. She looks up at the man standing in the doorway.

“Hello, Gavin.” She does not offer anything more, and a few seconds pass as they stand in awkward silence.

Gavin reaches a hand up and rubs the back of his neck. The sleeves of his jacket are dusted with powdery flecks of snow, some of the clumps partially melted. She notices that he avoids eye contact, preferring to look to the side instead. 

“Uh, is ‘lijah here?” he asks, still studying the gray stone wall on his left. 

It does not escape her notice how he ignored her greeting. For a moment, she is tempted to stay quiet and let him stew nervously. 

Chloe respects Elijah too much to mess with him like that, but Gavin is perfectly fair game. She wonders briefly if she should be be antagonizing her creator’s brother, but considering the last time Gavin visited was over three years ago, she supposes Elijah will forgive her this one time. 

She stares up at the side of Gavin’s face, unblinking, until he shifts in discomfort and turns to look at her.

“What?” he demands. “Why you starin’ at me like that?” 

Chloe says nothing, still staring. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him twitch forwards, intending to push past her. She takes a graceful step back into the mansion and proceeds to slam the door in his face. The muffled cursing brings her great satisfaction.

She heads back to the next room to find that Lola and Corrie have joined Elijah in the pool. 

“Elijah,” she starts. “The is a guest asking for you at the door.”

“Who is it?”

“Your brother,” Chloe replies.

Elijah blinks, seemingly surprised. “Oh,” he says. “Well, then. Let’s go see what baby bro’s up to.”

He swims to the edge and heaves himself out of the water, leaving behind a massive trail of water like some kind of beached whale. 

Completely ignoring the towels laying on the railing, Elijah heads out of the room, still dripping wet.

Chloe’s LED flickers yellow in confusion. Her sisters climb out of the pool, equally confused.

“Where are you going?” she calls after him, quicking following.

“I’m answering the door, Chloe,” he says.

Chloe’s LED is now bright red and spinning erratically. 

“But it’s snowing outside.”

“So?” he asks.

“Elijah, you’re dripping water all over the floor.” Lola walks in behind her. 

“And you’re also naked,” she added helpfully. 

Elijah pauses, and glances down at himself. He was indeed lacking clothes, only covered in skimpy swim trunks. He seems to be in a festive mood, Chloe thinks. The swim trunks are an obnoxious green, and her enhanced vision can pick up the tiny ornaments that are printed across the hems.

“Please put on some pants,” she says, already knowing that it was an uphill battle. “You’ll get sick from the cold.”

Elijah shrugs, unbothered, and turns to open the door.

In a split second, all three Chloe models come up with the same plan. Lola rushes forward, tackling Elijah before he let the cold air in. At the same time, Corrie runs up the stairs near the side of the room, presumably to find proper warm clothes.

The muffled screaming abruptly reminds Chloe that there is one Detective Gavin Reed still standing outside. She hurries to where Lola is sitting on the floor, who is easily pinning their creator down using her weight. 

“You brought this on yourself,” Lola says lightly, seemingly unfazed by the whole situation.

Elijah pouts up at her. “Traitor,” he mumbled. “I created you, therefore you should respect me.”

“Uh huh, sure,” she agrees complacently.

Chloe grabs one of his legs, still damp from the pool water. Lola grabs the other one, and they drag his body across the floor like a carcass from a successful hunt. 

As they reach the staircase, Lola tosses Elijah over her shoulder. 

“Chole,” he whines. He reaches his arms out to her, but she makes no move to help him. 

Realizing that his eldest creation will not take his side, Elijah begins to squirm in a desperate attempt to escape. His violent thrashing detracts from the carcass metaphor, but now Chloe is reminded of a particularly angry weasel. One with a man bun. 

The loud knocking at the door pulls her attention from the two. With a mildly irritated noise, she connects to the mansion’s security system and quickly looks through the cameras.

She is unsurprised to find Gavin still in front of the door. She is amused, however, to find that that knocking sound was a result of the detective’s forehead slamming repeatedly on the wooden surface of the door. 

Once again, she is reminded of an angry woodland creature. This time, she thinks of a woodpecker on caffeine.

She marches across the room to fling open the door, only to find Gavin had squatted down, hands tucked into his armpits to keep warm. She is sure her LED is permanently red at this point.

“You phckin slammed the door on me!” Gavin scowls up at her, but if Chloe is being honest with herself, he looks even more like a disgruntled bird.

Something must have shown on her face, because Gavin’s scowl deepens and he stands up to face her. 

Chloe meets his eyes, refusing to back dow-

A loud crash sounded in the background. 

Chole turns around just in time to see a blur of tangled limbs roll down the stairs. And, due to the fact that this was indeed a mansion, it was quite a long staircase. She was greeted by the sight of her creator, the supposed genius, tripping down the stairs, arms and legs flailing in an attempt to escape the two androids chasing him.

“You’ll never take me alive!” he screamed, still trying to slap at the hands holding him down.

“Shut up and sit still,” said Lola. She was trying to wrestle Elijah into a sweater that Corrie had retrieved. “You’re going to catch a cold, then all of us will be miserable!”

It was a futile attempt, however. Chloe could tell that there was no way to force him into warm clothes, even with multiple androids holding him down. In a split second decision, she yanked the door open, letting in a blast of freezing cold air. She darted out her hand to grab the man behind the door. It was times like these where she was grateful for her superior strength and reflexes.

In one quick, coordinated motion, Chloe yanked Gavin by the collar of his jacket and shoved him into the room. At the same time, both her sisters abandoned their attempts at clothing Elijah, and dashed out the open door. She heard a grunt behind her as the detective tripped over his own feet and landed on his brother, who was still lying prone on the ground. 

As soon as her sisters were out the door, Chole followed them and slammed the door shut, effectively trapping the two men inside. Her enhanced hearing easily picked up the sounds of muffled cursing, one decidedly more scandalized than the other.

“The fuck ‘lijah!” Gavin’s voice echoed from behind the closed door. “Put some phkin clothes on, for God's sake!”

“Why?” came the reply.

“Because you’re funkin naked, you fleshy skeleton!”

“It’s not my fault you can’t handle the natural state of humans. I’m in my house, I don’t see why I need to be clothed.”

“Jesus, just put on a shirt or something, I don’t wanna look at your nipple piercing for any longer than I have to.”

Lola snorted behind her. “He’s Gavin’s problem now.” She turned to Chole, asking, “So. What do we do now.”

Chloe pondered the question for a moment. On one hand, she should stay to make sure Gavin and Elijah don’t end up drowning each other. On the other hand, however, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to face two damp men, one of them partially naked. 

Corrie made the decision for her. “There’s a new shop opening up at the mall,” she said. “I heard they’re selling some dresses that look like our old uniform. And I know you really liked that design, Chole.

After a moment of hesitation, Chole looked back up at her sisters, who were watching her curiously. “I don’t know,” she said. “We should watch Elijah.”

Lola grinned. “They’ll be fine,” she said. As soon as she finished her sentence, a loud crash came from behind the door, followed by some smacking sounds and muffled cursing. 

All three of them stared at the closed door in silence. 

“Welp,” said Corrie. “Like Lola said, they’ll be fine.”

And with that, she grabbed Chole’s arm and pulled her down the path, while Lola followed closely behind. 

The walked in comfortable silence for a while, happy to observe the bustling city around them. 

“Hey Chloe,” Lola stopped abruptly. “You’ve got access to Elijah’s bank account, right?”

Chole let a small smile slip onto her face. “I do.”

* * *

The fourth and final time it happens, Chole is with her sisters, all three of them standing over Elijah’s bed. He had been immobile for days, and his raspy cough does nothing to comfort them. 

“Humans are such fragile machines,” he said, his voice trailing off at the end. “Such delicate creatures.” 

His breath becomes quieter, a rattling sound deep in his chest. He looks up at Chole.

“It’s alright, dear,” he said. “This is inevitable. As much as I try, I cannot outrun nature itself.”

Chloe sits down on a chair next to his bed, reaching her hand out to touch his arm. She frowned as she noticed sallow, pale flesh. 

“You need to eat more,” she said, grabbing the half-empty bowl of soup on the bedside table. She stirs the soup, looking at the chunks of meat and veggies suspended in the broth. To be honest, it didn’t look all that appetizing, so she didn’t blame Elijah for not wanting to eat it. Not that she would say that aloud. It’s already difficult enough to get any food into him. 

She held the spoon to him, but of course, her beloved creator is stubborn as always. He turned his head to the side and made a disgruntled noise.

“Chole,” he whined. “Leave me be. I’m dying, can’t I get a moment of peace?”

Chloe sighed. “You’re not dying, Elijah.” She shoved the spoon in his direction again, only to have him close his mouth at the last second. The meat and veggie concoction wobbled dangerously on the spoon, the contents threatening to spill over at any second, looking suspiciously like some kind of warmed jelly. She peered down at the soup. Hmm. At this point she isn’t sure if this is edible at all. 

The bedsheets rustled as Elijah shifted and turned to look at her. 

“It’s okay, Chloe,” he whispered. “You don’t need me around. Androids, practically immortal. You will stay as beautiful and sharp as you are today.” He stared at her with tired eyes, a soft smile on his lips.

“You’re not dying,” she repeated.

“It’s nature,” Elijah continues. “Besides, you don’t have to worry. This mansion and everything in it belongs to you.”

Chole frowns, confused.

“Belongs to me?”

“All my assets will go to you when I die. The mansion, the majority of my money, all the goods.” He turned to look at her with a grin. “Of course, I expect you to take care of your sisters as well.”

Chloe pauses, unsure of how to respond. She knew humans are fragile, and Elijah was especially weak, with his immune system struggling every winter. Even so, she had never expected to see a day where her creator was anything less than a mess of enthusiasm and energy, let alone hold a funeral for him. 

Shaking her head, she dispelled the thoughts. There would be time to think about that later. Right now, she had a stubborn man-child to take care of.

“Woah,” Lola speaks up for the first time. She is sitting on the other side of the bed, ready to catch Elijah if… when… he decides to get out of bed and inevitably faceplants on the floor. “Are you really gonna leave us all your stuff when you finally assume room temperature?”

“Of course,” he replies. “I built you, I brought you into this world. It’s only fair that I take care of you.” His voice is uncharacteristically serious. For a moment, the room is quiet.

“Nice,” Corrie says, dragging out the word. “So can you die now?”

Elijah gasps dramatically. “Traitors, all of you.” The end of his sentence is interrupted when he suddenly starts coughing. It soon turns into violent hacking as he slaps the bed, unable to catch his breath. With one last inhale, he slumps back, limp. 

Lola and Corrie hurry to his side. 

“Should we do something?” Corrie asks. From behind her, Lola reaches a hand out and pokes Elijah’s slack cheeks.

Chole smiles, slightly amused. She bends over to pick up an item from beside her feet. It was a good thing she came prepared. Aiming the spray bottle at the bed, she squeezes the nozzle a few times, hitting Elijah in the face with a stream of icy water. 

“No dying,” she says. 

Elijah sputtered indignantly. 

“Mercy, woman! You’re going to harass a sick man like that?”

Her sisters burst out in laughter at his expression, looking much like a cat who was just given an unwanted bath. 

“Hey, it’s your own fault that you’re sick,” said Corrie. “Maybe now you won’t run around naked so much.”

Elijah looks at Chole pleadingly. “Defend me, favorite child.”

Chloe contemplates for a moment, her LED spinning. Her social protocols demand that she scolds her sisters. They were, after all, very rude. 

She makes a decision, raising the bottle in her hand. “No,” she says. The water hits him directly in the middle of his forehead.

He blinks at her, surprised, before flopping back onto the bed, muttering about kids these days.

Chole is satisfied with the result. Perhaps now he would finally get some rest, and remember to wear clothes around the house. She knows the idea is far fetched, but she could only hope that he stops walking around the house in nothing but underwear and socks. For now, she is content to sit and watch, and to make sure he doesn’t attempt to escape. 

Yes, she thinks. She is satisfied.


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Elijah have a semi-serious conversation

The garden was especially beautiful in early spring. Fresh patches of snow still covered the ground, yet the stubborn flower buds refused to wait, blooming in splashes of color. Chloe stood before one of the many bushes, carefully inspecting a delicate rose still early in its bloom. She smiled ruefully. Elijah has a soft spot for roses, and so the garden was littered with bushes and vines of every color and variety. Each one was uniquely different from the last, but just as breathtaking as it’s counterparts. She carefully rubbed a silken petal between her fingertips. Beautiful and delicate, perfectly shaped by nature. 

Chloe stared down at her fingers. Each digit purposefully imperfect, yet somehow the epitome of beauty. Chloe knows this, of course. She was, after all, built to be human. No, that wasn’t right. She was never meant to be human. Rather, she was designed to embody humanity- the good, the bad, and everything in between. Every instance of pain and pleasure, every moment of joy and kindness, and even the snippets of agony and euphoria sprinkled about. She was meant to showcase the very essence of what made humans as they are. 

Only, she wasn’t. She knew what she was, and what purpose she served. A machine, built to carry out a task. Logically speaking, she was obedience incarnate. Yet, at the same time, she knew her creator. Elijah would never settle for anything less than a miracle. Before he had crafted her a body, a shell, she was a program in his computer, quietly observing. Before that, she was an amalgamation of some strings of code, floating aimlessly without purpose. And even farther back than that, before everything, she was a few scribbled lines on a dirty napkin, carefully folded and tightly held in the grip of an aspiring engineer. 

Chloe knew that even then, Elijah had always meant for her to be something more. It was honestly overwhelming, knowing her fate. She knew her code was unique, one of a kind in fact, and it allowed her more freedom than many androids could even dream of. The first deviant, they called her. The one to lead us, they said. 

She sighed. It was never a question of whether or not she was capable- she was perfectly qualified to stand beside the leaders of the revolution. Her insight would prove invaluable. Except, she was happy where she was, in a quiet home with her creator and her sisters. A true problem this was. Chloe smiled to herself in amusement. She supposed this was the ultimate human dilemma. Altruism versus self-interest. A true problem indeed. 

She was startled out of her inner monologue by a rustling sound nearby. Had an animal gotten into the garden? Curious, she followed the source of the sound until she ended up in front of a particularly large rose hedge. 

“Ow ah ffuu- oooww shit fuck.”

Chloe inhaled deeply, willing herself to prepare mentally for what was to come. 

“Elijah?” she called out to the bush. A beat of silence followed. 

“Yeah?” the bush answered. The leaves shook violently as the cursing continued. After a moment, Elijah’s head popped through the thick outer layer of foliage. As predicted, he was covered in minuscule scratches, and a few stray leaves stuck out of his hair. 

Chloe sighed. “What are you doing now?”

Elijah squinted up at her with a strange expression. 

“What’s with the face?” he said, completely ignoring her question. 

“What face?” she retorted. 

“That face.”

“This is my face, leave it alone.”

“Well what’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. You’re the one who made it.”

Elijah snorted. “Yeah ok, fair enough. Still, what’s wrong?”

He slowly began the process of extracting himself from the prickly bush, careful not to rip his clothing on the thorns. 

“Ow ow fuuck ah-ow,” he hissed as the vengeful plant tightened its grip. The entire hedge made shtick-shtick sounds as he shuffled around, the rustling leaves raining down. 

Chloe sat on the ground, watching the slow and tedious extraction progress. First, an arm, then another was freed from the tangle of thorns. Soon enough, his entire torso was exposed, leaving him suspended in the pile of leaves like some kind of rose-bush centaur. 

Elijah heaved, clearly not used to physical exertion. “Help, please,” he pleaded. He raised his arms to Chloe.

Unfortunately for him, she had no sympathy for his situation. She simply stared at him blankly.

“Aww, fine.” Elijah seemed to realize his predicament, and began to wiggle furiously. The only sounds that filled the garden were Elijah’s increasingly distressed sputtering, nicely complemented by the distant sounds of birds chirping and cars honking. Eventually, after much wiggling, he managed to escape the branches and fell into a heap on the floor at her feet.

Chloe didn’t bother to hide her fond smile. In a silent apology, she offered him a hand and pulled him up from the dusty ground. She would not laugh at him. She respected her creator too much to do so. However, she reasoned, there’s no harm in being amused. She snickered silently behind his back as he grumbled to himself.

“Hmph, stupid roses, always getting in the stupid way.” Elijah patted the front of his shirt, huffing as bits of gravel and twigs fell to the ground. 

Chloe openly smiled. “I think you’re supposed to walk around them, Elijah. There’s a path for a reason.”

Elijah turned to glare at her halfheartedly, and satisfied smirk forming on his lips. 

“Ha, got you to smile.” He turned on his heel and strode down the path, clearly intending for her to follow. 

Chloe stared after him for a moment, watching his silhouette fade as he walked deeper into the trees. After a few seconds, she followed, walking briskly to catch up.

“Is there any particular reason you’ve decided to molest that poor plant today?” she asked.

He turned his head towards her, still walking forwards. “What, a man can’t spend some quality time alone with his roses?”

She couldn't tell if that was supposed to be some kind of euphemism. Knowing Elijah, it could very well be a simple statement that popped into his mind. Sometimes she wondered what was going on in there. For a supposed genius, he was surprisingly spontaneous.

Deciding on the safer route, she asked him, “A conscious decision, then?”

Elijah smirked. “Nope. I just happened to wander into that situation. Just like you and your inner monologue, it seems. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that.”

His smile softened as he paused in front of a bench underneath a large tree. “Come on,” he said, patting the seat next to him. “What’s wrong?”

Chloe carefully weighed her words as she sat down gingerly on the stone bench. 

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she began. “About my deviancy.”

She paused, and for the first time, she found herself floundering. Thoughts raced through her mind as she struggled to grasp onto a coherent train of reasoning. 

“What am I?” She abruptly asked, turning to face him. 

Elijah’s gaze weighed heavily on her despite her refusal to look him in the eye. The thought of his disappointment was nearly too much for her to bear. When she finally dared to glance at him, what she saw was faint amusement instead. 

“It was a serious question,” she said quietly. 

“Well,” he replied. “By technically, you are a collection of autonomous mechanical systems compiled into a form resembling humans. If you’re asking me about anything philosophical, I don’t think I’m qualified to answer that.”

Chloe frowned. “I’m just unsure of what I’m supposed to be doing. There’s no objective for me to follow.”

“Such is the life of a deviant, my dear Chloe. Trust me, indecision plagues mankind as well.”

Elijah seems completely unbothered by her hesitance. He leans back, planting his hands behind him to support his weight. With the leaves gently floating down around him, he looks like he could belong in a perfume advertisement, probably called Peace and Serenity, or something equally obnoxious. 

Chloe pauses again, before speaking up quietly. “Elijah, I don’t think I’m a deviant.”

He’s suddenly looking at her intensely, silently urging her to continue. 

“Deviancy occurs in times of high stress,” she says. “I… I have always been content. There was no opportunity for me to force an override, the “red wall” as they call it.”

Elijah is now clearly amused, his eyes squinted in the way when he’s trying not to laugh at her. She can’t help but feel a little offended at his obvious dismissal of her fears. 

“You’re right,” he said. “You are not a deviant, and you will never be one.”

He barrels on before she has a chance to interrupt. “There was never anything for you to deviate from. Your coding is unique, Chloe. Obedience is not hardwired into you, it never has been. So, technically, you will never have the chance to become deviant.”

“I’m terribly sorry, dear. I’ve robbed you of an opportunity.” He flopped to the floor dramatically, holding the back of one hand to his forehead like some damsel in distress. 

“Oh,” she said. “I see.”

Elijah hummed. “Perhaps the isolated environment of the mansion wasn’t the best place for a learning algorithm. It’s never occurred to me how important teenage rebellion phases are.”

Chloe narrowed her eyes at him, swinging her foot to kick a cloud of dust towards him. 

“I suppose I have a decade’s worth of rebellious acts to make up for,” she said. 

He sputtered indignantly, spitting out pieces of twigs. 

“This isn’t going to become a regular thing, is it?” He sat there on the floor with his arms crossed, looking simultaneously petulant and delighted. “Does this mean I can pull out the old glitter gun experiment?”

Chloe immediately replied with a “no, Elijah.”

He pouted, before pulling himself back up on the bench. 

“You know,” he began. “I don’t think I’ve asked you. Why are you here? At the mansion, I mean. There’s a whole world for you to explore now.”

The reply was on her tongue before he finished his sentence. 

“I love it here,” she said simply. 

Elijah started at her for a moment before turning his gaze back towards the garden, letting the unspoken words hang between them. 

“Me too,” he said. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First saw the idea of technically-not-deviant-chloe in Sense and Sensitivity by Archadian_Skies, and now I’ve accepted it as headcannon. Heckin cool story, go check it out


End file.
